


you're the origin of love

by misanima (orphan_account)



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Gen, alas love, why is it so shitty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 11:00:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/misanima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>being a teenager in love is hard. </p>
<p>(thank god that you found me.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're the origin of love

_pragma ___  
she’s barely had a friend, and a lover is almost out of the question. her parents died, and she did, but then she came back. and now she has more priorities, less time, less opportunity. every girl she comes across, she examines, wondering if they could be her saving grace and her companion. but they never stay. no one stays with her.  
but madoka promised she’d stay. madoka fit all her requirements. madoka could truly love her.  
her final thoughts are of trembling, rosy-eyed madoka. she thinks of madoka with those fangs at her neck, and tears fall down her cheeks. 

_manic ___  
she is worthless, and she knows that much. she has kyousuke and madoka and hitomi, but they must only pity her, because who could ever love her? who could ever love a zombie, a lich, an empty shell of armor fighting for a world of fantasy? certainly not her. and if she cannot love herself, if no one can love her, then she cannot love anyone.  
she’s such an idiot. 

_eros ___  
she had always dreamed of living as a fairytale. never like tragic ophelia, but as a knight protecting those she loved, and earning their love in return. as time went on, she let the dream die with her emotional capacity, but it never truly left her. even at night, if her dreams weren’t filled with hanging feet and splattered brains and towering stained glass windows, she dreamed of fine silver armor. of decadent food. of finding love for once and keeping it. and lately, she dreams of sayaka.  
she doesn’t like sayaka, except she does. more than she can ever admit to herself, much less anyone else. sayaka looks so much like the little kid who first thought she could save her family with a simple wish, that stupid girl who thought it’d be so easy. so easy. but nothing is that easy, is it, kyoko? she thinks.  
love isn’t so easy, she thinks, and presses her lips to her soul gem. and tosses it into the air. and shatters it like a princess’s heart.

_storge_  
she can’t remember life before madoka. she doesn’t want to live a life after madoka. she must live for now, must persevere for how short and fickle and dangerous that time is. what is she without the hourglass on her arm, without the weight of a world on her shoulders, without a glimpse of rose-coloured eyes? she can’t remember. she doesn’t need to. all she needs is madoka. 

_agape ___  
love only followed the end of the universe. when she could finally see all the threads binding her arms, and realize all that homura had suffered for her sake. she sees them one by one, and puts hope into the heart of every pale, fearful, violet-eyed girl fighting for a lost cause. she feels a warm, endless love in her heart, as encompassing as the universe itself. for all the people she has met. for those she will never meet.  
but, most of all, she feels love for homura.

**Author's Note:**

> haha wow first ao3 story eyyyyyyy


End file.
